


Mittens.

by HornyOrcas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Can i call this F.R.I.E.N.D.?, Comedy, Comfort, Damn, Everything you could ever want in a story, F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff, Funny Shit, GET TO THE HORRIBLE STORY ALREADY, Hurt, I need a life, It does fit his name, Literature, Marauders of course, OKAY., Or is that illegal?, Peter has a secret crush, Pranks, Probably illegal.., Real Life, Romance, Shit happens tho, Siri is am S.O.B, Sirius gets jealous, Why are you reading these?, You get jealous, You have long hair in this okay?, You're a Marauder, future smut, hah, i cant believe i wrote this, pls, thnx
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2888942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HornyOrcas/pseuds/HornyOrcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was complicated really--as if Harry's life wasn't complicated enough, or full of enough surprises and mysteries for him to unravel.</p><p>They just had to add one more to his life didn't they? But, this time, he'd have some help from his 'family' for this one, or as much as they really knew on it.</p><p>Strange..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Findings.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds something interesting when he 'accidentally' ends up in his Godfathers room while trying to find a quill.

It was completely shabby and a tad run-down with the paint peeling off the walls where there was some, and wallpaper withering away where there was that instead, and incredibly dusty with the dire need to be swept in the uncarpeted rooms and vacuumed in the carpeted ones... and.. everything Harry could have ever wanted with his friends, his 'family' all around him. Granted they weren't all always there as most of them loved in separate places, but it was always a joy when they were around, and the lost time he made up for it with Hermione and Ron during school. 

It would be his first year going to live with his Godfather, Sirius Black. As of now, he was there for Christmas vacation, now having somewhere he honestly wanted to be during the Holiday--another thing he was positively thrilled about. Everyone would be there in less than a few hours as Harry started tinkering with little lights wrapped around the pine tree that sat in the corner of the dinning room. 

It was a serene moments for him as he admired the glow of the small lights and the way they reflected off the silver tensile that was just tossed onto it in a messy manner, but it was brilliant to him. He would have continued to admire the way the soft pliable rays of the evening sun reflect from the glass star that sat perched on top of the tree if Sirius's voice wouldn't have cut through the air, but Harry didn't mind. It was nice too. 

"Harry, my boy, I have been looking everywhere and I just can't seem to find a quill," came the older mans voice from the living room, floating through the open doorway of the dinning room. Turning around, the boys green eyes looked in the direction, his eyebrow raised. "Come and help an old man out?" the voice joked and Harry chuckled, shaking his head softly before walking to the man. 

"Yeah, uh, sure," the boy complied, and it was agreed that Harry would take the upper-level and Sirius would continue trifling through the main. 

• • •

It felt quiet odd for Harry to be going through his Godfathers personal room. Sure, he had been in it before, but that was for a brief tour of the place, now he was having to go through his things to find something. He had permission though, so it was okay right? He shouldn't feel guilty like he does? It's not like he was going to dig through every nook and cranny in the room, he just need to look in obvious places for goodness-sake! So why did he feel so... weird about it? 

Swallowing thickly, his green eyes darted around the ocean-blue painted room with dark silver swirls painted for designs, and much like the start atop of the tree, the soft rays of light seemed to make them shimmer like fish scales as it passed over them, sort of reminding him of small stars in the darkening sky. Like that moment where the sun light was just barely peeking and night was falling, but the stars were barely visible, but enough to notice if you really paid attention. 

He noticed a fairly sized desk sitting over catty-corner against a corner with an old bookshelf running along the wall beside it, filled with tattered books heavy enough to cause the shelves to dip in the middles of them. He never knew Sirius read so much. Shrugging that thought away, he hesitantly made his way over to the cherry stained desk, wondering if that would be a good place to start. 

With a sigh, he slowly lifted up the slanted lid of the desk, laying it back so the edge of the top of it rested against the wall, fitting perfectly into a small rut that seemed to be created there. It must have been used a lot. As he started to look through it, **only** trying to keep am eye our for quill, he noticed a lot of papers and letters; pictures and sketches; stuff he tried so, **so** , hard not to pay attention too, but curiosity was in his blood and he couldn't help but wonder: **who was sending Sirius so many letters, or who was he sending so many too**? 

Harry tool a quick glance around the room as though there were people watching his every move but he was alone, before he picked up a large bundle of letters held together by a thick band. Oh, Merlin, he felt so guilty looking, but as he turned the bundle over to clearly see the front of one of the letters, he silently read it over, 

**_Number Twelve Gimmualed Place._**

Harry's brows furrowed as he stared down at it. That was this address. So why didn't he recognize the name? 

**_[First Name] [Last Name]; Mittens._**

No one by that named lived there, and what kind of nickname was **Mittens** , honestly? That's almost as bad as Molly calling Ronald, Ronniekins just to embarrass him- okay, that's a lie, maybe **not** as bad. But who was she? 

His green eyes slid over towards the flipped over pictures on the desk and he exhaled deeply. What was he getting himself into? He shouldn't be meddling in Sirius's things, honestly. When did he become a man who invades peoples privacy? But now he was curious, and the 'Marauders side'--as his Godfather calls it--was coming out in him right now. 

He almost felt bad as he flipped over one of the pictures and saw a pictures that caused Harry's eyes to widen; it was Sirius in his Gryffindor uniform, looking to be in his last year, his arms wrapped around the waist of a woman shorter than him in the same uniform, his chin resting on her shoulder and they were both laughing, his lips occasionally making contact with her cheek. He continued flipping them, seeing the same woman mostly with Sirius with smiles and laughter, but some of them included his mother at that age and sometimes younger, older, the same with his father, Remus and a pudgy boy he assumed to be Peter Pettigrew that he remembered as--as Sirius told him--was one of their friends. 

He smiled fondly at all the pictures, putting the pieces together that his Godfather must have been fond of this girl in school--extremely fond to have so many pictures of her and to keep their letters, but as he ~~probably went a bit too far by~~ opening one of the letters and reading it with a dry throat of guilt, he noticed it was a letter to the woman. Was it just never sent? Harry's green eyes trailed to the other letters and his shaky hand hovered over the next. What type of person was he becoming? He was seriously starting to question himself. Opening **just one more** , it was the same. 

He couldn't understand why they were never sent. Perhaps Sirius was actually too nervous to send them? Nah! Not the mane who constantly told Harry of his 'womanizer' days in school- 

"Prongslet?" came said mans voice from the other side of the door before the sound of the knob turning and the door squeaking reached his ears. He began to sweat and panic. 

**Shit.**


	2. Findings - II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds out just who you are, and the discovery is a shock to him. Now he wants to know just what happened to you. Good thing Sirius kept **everything** you had before you died, and you knew just about everyone he does.

Turning around quickly as the door fully opened, revealing Sirius who was looking down at the floor--probably as to not trip on the carpet that needed mending down again, Harry pushed the papers and pictures behind him, only to actually knock them off the desk and he cursed under his breath. Looking up his green eyes widened as he watched his Godfather blink at him before his grey eyes skipped to the scattered belongings on the desk, some of them on the floor. "What're you doing, Prongslet?" the older man asked and Harry visibly relaxed with the knowledge that Sirius wasn't mad at him for nosy as he was. 

The boy knew the older man would never actually be **angry** with him, but Harry wasn't thrilled with possibly disappointing Sirius either. So, automatically like a small child caught with his hand in a cookie jar, and what was just good manners as the boy was raised to know, he began to apologize. "I- uh- Sirius, I'm sorry, I was just-" 

The older man would have none of that. Sirius held up his hand to cut off Harry's words, the other wrapping his house-coat closer around him as he stepped closer to the boy. "Harry, Harry, Harry," he spoke as though he were calling out for something and said boy swallowed again. "If you're going to trifle through someone's things, you need to be more sneaky about it." he finished with a boyish grin and the actual boy flashed a nervous, shy smile back. 

It was honestly amazing how the older Marauder could be so carefree about this; here Harry was going through Sirius's personal things and the man didn't even care! He told him **to be more careful** for Merlin's sake! But, he was more than glad about that than anything and heaved a small sigh of relief that Sirius didn't seem to notice as he reached around Harry to carefully pick up one of the pictures. "Yeah, uh, right," the boy agreed off-handedly, still a little high-pulsed from being caught doing something so wrong. It wasn't like he enjoyed it now, being in the after-math. He felt extremely guilty. 

"Hmm," Sirius hummed, looking at one of the pictures Harry had moments ago. There was no smile on the older mans face, the boy noted. He couldn't really place the look on his Godfather's face as his grey eyes gazed down at the two moving around in the picture. It wasn't... happy, it wasn't longing or anything of the sorts. It was almost.. remorseful, and that set the boy on edge once again. 

Had he just bought up unwanted feelings? That's most likely why all the pictures and letters were stuffed away somewhere instead of framed and placed on a shelf where everyone could see them. He just messed up didn't he? But Harry couldn't help himself! Sometimes he really hated the fact he was so curious about things, and that he always tended to act on his thought. Perhaps it was a curse, because now, he wondered even more what was going on. He didn't want to ask. No, not at all. He wanted to turn and Floo away to the Weasley's for the next year he felt so bad, and he was going to feel bad after he spoke again. "... Who was she?" 

_Wow, really? ___

Sirius looked up at Harry, blinking a few times before his eyebrows raised and his expression seemed to become what could be considered a relaxed one. The older mans mouth opened and closed a few times as though he were trying to find the right words to say, and the boy felt himself take a few deep breaths. "Her names was, [First Name] [Surname]," he began to explain her to Harry, telling him about her, but really, all the boy could think about was one single word. 

** Was.**

Oh, bloody hell. Tell him that doesn't mean what he thinks it does. But of course it would! Why wouldn't it, and why would he be surprised? After everything that's happened, he'd think he'd be use to anything by now, and that nothing would come as a shock. But, this wasn't his friend or anyone he knew; this was Sirius's friend, and from the two letters he 'quickly scanned over', a friend he cared very, **very** much about. So, maybe everything that happened to him could still not come as a shock. "What was she like?" he asked softly, his green eyes scanning the face of the older man who smiled lightly. "She wasn't liked by a lot of people," Sirius began to explain with a growing smirk on his lips and Harry blinked at those words, and thankfully the man began to talk again before the boy could wonder why. "She had a tad of a cold exterior full of sarcastic remarks and she had a bad habit of pushing people who cared about her away," he chuckled a bit, looking down at his hands and Harry had trouble believing any of that as he looked don at the smiling and laughing girl in the picture with his mother. She looked so happy and care-free, like nothing in the world could be wrong. "I can remember her flat out telling us four, ' ** _This is as close as any of you are going to get, but be happy, it's closer than a lot of people have gotten._** '." 

"And..?" the boy egged on curiously. Of course, he figured Sirius's next words, but he wanted to hear them come from the mans mouth. 

His Godfather chuckled, patting the boy on his upper-back. "It seemed to only get us closer--with much pestering of course." he stated before he moved around the boy and picked up the bundle of photographs that sat with the stack of letters, sketches, and a thick book, and began to shuffle through them carefully until he reached a certain one and he stopped, staring down into it for a moment before glancing up at Harry with his stormy eyes, causing the boy to shift uncomfortably. "Here," Sirius said with a small exhale, holding out the single picture in his hand to Harry. 

Hesitantly taking the picture, he looked at the front of it and his pale face seemed to go a few shades lighter, immediately jumping to conclusions and his own ideas as he stared down with his green eyes intently. It was the same woman, he assumed by the color of her eyes, only she was holding a small little boy on her lap, bouncing him lightly on her knee; the little baby was making a funny face at the camera, shifting it to his tiny hands that she was playfully clapping. Tons of things ran through Harry's mind, worrying him to an extent on if he was right or not. "You.." he trailed off, not sure how to say it, or even if he should ask at all. "You had a kid..?" he asked a little confused. 

Silence fell over them before Sirius laughed, straight out laughed at the questions, one hand on his stomach and the other on the boys shoulder as for support. "Merlin, no!" he exclaimed, almost horrified but the laughter was still there. The older man silently flipped the picture over with the hand that was on his stomach, allowing Harry to read the words on the back of it; 

****

**_Harry & His Godmother, May 20th, 1981._**

 ****


	3. Crossing The Metaphorical Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, he had a - dead - Godmother, but no one decided to tell him, ever? Sure, she was dead, but he was still upset! He thought he had every right to be. At least he'd get to hear about her now.
> 
>  
> 
> hola. how long has it been since i touched this story? well, anywho, i would like to thank all of you for liking this piece of shit, and i would also like to inform you that from here-on-out, it will most likely be tons of drabbles that don't follow in order because i'm a horrible person(love me). some of them might be in order, some not. Though this one will be in order of the last two so it all makes sense. c:
> 
> P.S. js, i hate cinnamon toothpaste. nasty.

"-because sometimes I think you do this on purpose just to make me-" she stopped short, the compartment door wide-open, but not the face she was searching for sat inside with the four boys that she did find. Each of them wore Gryffindor robes and looked be in the same year as her(which happened to be second). They each had their own looks, being different heights, having different eye-colors and hair lengths and colors, but really, it was obviously the one in the far left corner that caught her attention.

It was the way he leaned in his chair, spread his arms wide of he back of the seat and flipped his bangs from his face in a way that left her breathless as he sat there looking incredibly smooth. "Jealous? Needy? I know, I do a combination of both to a lot of girls," he replied with a cheeky grin, his blue eyes twinkling.

It took her a minute to re-coop because good lord that was hot, but when she did, she offered back a small grin of her own, making a pose to lean against the door and purred a reply that was an incredibly smooth, "Hello, Black,"-

 

( _Record Scratch._ )

 

"No way," Harry cut his Godfather off with a bored expression, clearly stating he didn't believe  **a single thing** coming from the mans mouth at this moment. Honestly, this was not the woman he described awhile ago at all. He said she was distant and cut-off; not flirty and... **that** , whatever it was. If the young boy wasn't such a gentleman and had some respect, he would just flip the table, take the diary and walk away to learn about her from a source that would be, without a doubt, reliable. But that would be out of his character and completely rash.

Sirius protested, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Honest, word-from-word!" the man was trying so hard,  **way to hard** , in Harry's opinion. Though, why would he believe that? Sure, the older man talked about his school days and how he had women practically at his feet - which the boy found a bit far-fetched, but decided to just let it go - all the time, but he said those women never interested him for anything but a fling. He claimed they were too needy. 

"It is not, Sirius, and you know it." Ah, Remus, ever the honest. He had shown up a few hours after Harry and Sirius found everything and were into conversation about it; Sirius going into detail on how she was before she allowed them under her 'hard shell', and how she was afterwards. The boy couldn't deny she seemed like a wonderful person, albeit a bit loose with her anger, but who had complete control over it? Either way, Remus had decided to join in with much convincing from Sirius, knowing that even though it wasn't something he felt like discussing deeply, his friend was a doer, and a pest when he wanted something. "Because if I remember right, and I'm sure I do-"  
  
"Oh,  **of course** you do," Sirius mumbled, rolling his eyes. 

"-she referred to you as a Stoner Reject and almost hit you with her suitcase as she fled from you like you were the plague." Remus looked quiet proud with his memory as he nodded his head, a small smile crossing his face.

The mischievous man frowned into his cup of coffee, sinking down into his chair like a disappointed child. "Bugger," he muttered, and Harry smiled lightly, always finding it amusing to watch them poke at each other, Remus usually putting his friend in his place, but in all in a cheeky manner. But Sirius didn't stop at his last attempt, oh no, that wouldn't happen in a million years unless the situation was dire, but even then there were a couple taunting and sarcastic remarks - not like Harry could judge. His eyes trailed over to the small book on the table and practically lit up, and snatched it from it's place before anyone could protest. They should have seen this coming from the beginning,  **Harry should have seen this coming** the moment they found that diary. "I guess, that now, our only option would be to sneak a peek in here, eh?" it was the wag of the brows, and the thoughts the boy was sure his Godfather was having at the thought of what he would find in here that practically had Harry hitting the floor in a dead-pan. 

Remus sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Absolutely not, Sirius!" he was right, and everyone in the room knew it, but only one wanted to deny it.

"Why not?" it was a whine like a small dog would do when it would be denied it's snack.

"Because it's crossing a line."

Sirius looked down at the floor with a raised brow.

"You know what I mean!"

"But Harry wants to know more about her!" 

Wait- what? Harry looked up with wide-eyes, hearing his name in that conversation. That was so low and the lamest excuse the boy had ever heard, and Remus didn't look too impressed by it either, slowly turning his head to stare blankly at his friend who smile nervously. But Harry could't deny what his Godfather said was true. "Well, yeah, I do-" so he agreed.

It was warped. "See-!"

"-But I'm not going to go through her  **diary**!" there were... things in there no doubt, things he didn't want to know about her or any other woman for that manner. While Sirius may have been interested in those  **things** , he was not. Nope. Not a chance. Merlin's beard, no. 

Oh, look, Sirius was opening it anyway.

Wait, what?

No,  **nononono** -


End file.
